He's Banging
by Foxissofoxy
Summary: Carl and Andre are two friends that share the same outlook on teen life, they both hate school. As their life unfolds they both get a better understanding that some rumors have a thread of truth. Many versions will lead up to the One Big Event. (AU. Possible OOC. Theme of infidelity, bullying, autism, and thoughts of Suicide) Non-Linear will happen without warning.
1. Carl's Version

"Love is blind, they say; sex is impervious to reason and mocks the power of all philosophers. But, in fact, a person's sexual choice is the result and sum of their fundamental convictions. Tell me what a person finds sexually attractive, and I will tell you their entire philosophy of life. Show me the person they sleep with, and I will tell you their valuation of themselves. No matter what corruption they're taught about the virtue of selflessness, sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts, an act which they cannot perform for any motive but their own enjoyment - just try to think of performing it in a spirit of selfless charity! - An act which is not possible in self-abasement, only in self-exaltation, only on the confidence of being desired and being worthy of desire. It is an act that forces them to stand naked in spirit, as well as in body and accept their real ego as their standard of value. They will always be attracted to the person who reflects their deepest vision of themselves, the person whose surrender permits them to experience - or to fake - a sense of self-esteem .. Love is our response to our highest values - and can be nothing else."  
 **― Ayn Rand**

* * *

"What's that?"

I was silent. I could honestly hear what my friend was hearing. There wasn't any denying it. The walls that separated my Dads bedroom from my own were practically paper thin based on the sound effects. My lack of response confirmed to my friend Andre that what he was hearing was the sound of sex.

"That's your Dad?"

I nodded.

"Wow! He's really giving it to her."

We both listened to the headboard knocking against the far wall, the rocking of the bed and my Dad grunting as he encouraged for more and faster.

"Since when did your Dad start back to dating?"

"Not sure. I do know he's banging. Now you know too."

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend."

"I didn't either."

Andre and I did our usual fist bump and peace sign. He was out. Deuces.

I have known my Dad for 15 years, all my life actually. I can recall the earliest memory of him. I guess it's the moment we all become self-aware based on a significant moment where an insignificant memory begins to build and retain on top of other long ago father and son activities. What I can't remember is ever hearing him have sex with my Mom. Ever. The thought alone was cringe-worthy to think of my parents in that way. This new set of events that was on its fourth night, a school night I might add was something I would have to bring to his attention.

"Oh my God, Rick…Oh, my God. Right-ahh-there. Ohhh, Yes. Yesssss…Yessss."

"You like how I'm giving it to you? You like this?"

My Dad was asking her over and over again. She finally responded to him.

"Yesssss. Oh, Yes. Yes. Yes."

"I fucking live for this-All of this. Right here. Oh shit. Yessss."

I wanted my Dad to say nothing else. I only wanted to hear her.

Whoever she was, she was way more vocal this time around with the oooh and aaahs that I couldn't help but have more of a boner as long as my Dad kept quiet or quiet enough where I could unleash my teen fantasy on Beth Smith who worked in the lunchroom.

Beth Smith was four years older than me, and she was my girl crush, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Sunday was spent in the Catholic church where I spilled every sordid detail to Father Gabriel in the confessional booth. The heathen side of me was reborn every Monday like clock-work when my eyes would lock with hers in the cafeteria line.

I would fantasize about Beth. I imagined Beth and me together almost obsessively. I reached for the cock sock that I kept in my nightstand drawer. I was ready to burst at the seams. I was prepared until my Dad yelled, "Myyyyyyyyy. EHHHHH. Uhhhh." Then silence. Seconds later, giggles. UGHH. I put my sock back in my drawer for another time.

Our confrontation happened in the kitchen.

I waited for him to come out of his bedroom the next morning. My Dad was dressed in his uniform. He's a Deputy Sheriff. Our routine was always the same routine since Mom left him for what she considered a better life going on three years ago. He was adjusting his gun belt. I was at the kitchen table doodling guitar tabs to piano chords that were running through my mind at high speed. I am a gifted Pianist. I've also been told that I am a dark spirit. I take it as a compliment that my genius has manifested in order take over the world by storm.

"You missed the bus?" He was surprised to see me still home.

"I didn't sleep."

"Do you want me to take the TV out of your room along with your game system?"

This was his usual threat that he never acted on, but he felt it was a motivator for good behavior to not miss the bus 4 days in a row.

"I could turn up the volume of my TV to drown out other noises, but then neither one of us would get any sleep."

"What are you talking about, Carl?"

I didn't have a chance to answer because his phone vibrated loudly and his attention was on whatever was displayed. The smirk on his lips was every indication that it wasn't work-related. If I had someone to bet against, I would put my whole life savings that it had everything to do with last night and the night before and the night before that and so on. I watched his fingers move and wondered when did he ever become so proficient with texting?

"You aren't staying home. I will take you to school. If you get detention, you are going to serve it. I am not going to get you out of trouble."

"Who is she?"

He began to search the refrigerator for the creamer. It was right in front of him, but it was like he couldn't see it. It took him a whole 10 seconds to grab it. The refrigerator wasn't stocked with much.

"Who's who?"

"Who is it that you have in your bedroom?"

"What?"

"No. Who?"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

I allowed him to have that. Her name was Oh. I was going to give him time to clarify if Oh was an Asian lady or if Oh meant something different. But it was more like a dragged out Ohhhhhh!

My Dad poured himself a cup of coffee, forgetting the creamer as he stirred and texted. He placed two slices of visibly green pieces of moldy bread in the toaster. I sat back and watched with amusement.

"We only have one Oh that I am aware of and he's the math teacher." I was referencing my former math teacher Glen Oh. My Dad knew Glen on a personal level for years. "Are you messing around with his wife Maggie Oh who works in the library?"

"For God sakes no."

"Then?"

"For shit sakes, Carl. I'm not messing around. What's happening…What's going on is just…"

"Just what?"

"Different."

"Different?"

"Very different."

"You've had Jessie over, and I never heard anything. So, I guess. Whatever."

My Dad was right, whoever he's banging in his bedroom this time around has caused him to have an incredible vocal range of a grunting caveman that has scarred my brain for life.

"That was over a year ago. It was a mistake. Something I regret. Something that I would rather die than repeat."  
The Jessie fiasco.

The woman who was so abused and found her way into our home, in my father's bed with her two sons attached to her hip sharing my bedroom whenever she came around. I would immediately take to the couch or stayed over at my best friend, Andre's home that was positioned directly behind where I lived. I would stay with him and his parents until where I lived with my Dad was cleared of the pests. I'd never liked Sam nor Ron. Their Mom was a MILF, but not much else.

It still didn't answer who could have my Dad flustered in revealing who he wanted to have sit on his face. Knowing what I know, I will never, ever drink or eat anything after my Dad. He likes to eat this person, and my brain will forever remember where his lips have been.

He took a look at his phone that indicated he got another message.

"I have to get my keys."

I'm sitting back twirling my pencil between my fingers casually watching him set his phone down on the kitchen counter to go in search for his car keys. The keys were by the front door where he always leaves them. He went into his bedroom as if the keys would be in there.

His phone…

I was compelled to see. To investigate and hopefully have answers before he comes back out of his bedroom down the short hall.

 **Queen:** Is Carl still home?

 _Yes. I will take him to school, and then you can slip out._

 **Queen:** I was thinking about playing hooky. You in that uniform, yum.

 _That can be arranged. I'm crazy about you._

 **Queen:** Oh yeah?

 _My son heard us last night._

 **Queen:** No!

 _We may have to come clean._

 **Queen:** Come into your bedroom NOW!

Whoever he's banging was still in our home, and her name was Queen. Queen? Queen Elizabeth? We didn't have any Queens that I was aware of in our small enough town to know a name like that. A name like that would stick out.

Whoever he's' banging is royalty. This news is Gold. I couldn't help chuckling.

The toast was finished. I tossed it in the trash along with the rest of the moldy loaf. I put the creamer back in the refrigerator while still scrolling through my Dad's messages. I found a lot of sexting shared between him and Queen.

 _I can still taste you._

 **Queen:** It's my turn tonight.

 _Wonder if you can handle it._

 **Queen:** Don't doubt me.

 _Will I have to hold back?_

 **Queen:** I plan to swallow.

 _Yeah?_

 **Queen:** Lick every drop.

The sound of his bedroom door opening was enough to cause a slight panic to run through me. I turned his phone off.

"Carl, hand me my phone and let's get going."

"Did you find your keys in your bedroom?" I played it off cool walking over to him with his phone. It helped that he was visibly distracted by whatever happened in his bedroom.

"Why would I go into my bedroom for my keys? My keys are always by the front door."

His response was an indication that he wasn't 100 percent himself. I was going to have some fun.

"Dad, I left something in your bedroom. I'm going to check to see if…"

My Dad's whole attitude had changed lightning fast. His agitation was on butt load when I boldly began walking past him heading to his bedroom. He grabbed my arm and hauled me out the front door with a not so friendly shove, slamming the front door behind him.

"Hey, I was just joking!" I pretended to be upset with him handling me the way he did.

"Let's go."

My Dad was pissed off. He didn't give two shits.

Now going to school was another matter. I hated school. I hated the whispers about my Dad and Principal Benton. I hated the drop-off in his cruiser almost equally to everything else I hated.

The rumors were annoying to Andre, too. We were in the same gifted classes. Andre is a talented violinist. He's gifted on the piano as well as having the sickest rap lyrics of all time. I'm his biggest fan. He's considered to have a dark spirit too. He doesn't care because he knows he's going to take over the world by musical storm one motherfucking kick drum at a time.

Andre's mom's the Principal at our high school. His Dad is an attorney who works in Alexandria. I've only met his Dad a couple of times. He seemed very chill but his Mom…Principal Benton didn't have much of a sense of humor. She was no-nonsense, by the book, and she rode us both hard if we were acting like delinquents. I have to be honest, Principal Benton was annoying as fuck in school.

I sat in the cruiser. My Dad's mind was evidently a million miles away as he drove the usual route that was considered the fastest in the direction of King's Gifted Academy. The road with no sidewalks was the reason for many of us to have to ride the bus if we weren't lucky to have a parent willing to take us to school every day or old enough to have a license to drive. I much preferred the bus than the cruiser.

"Who's My Queen?"

"I don't know, Carl."

I watched my Dad try to swallow his lie.

"What do you mean, you don't know? Do you just randomly text people about still tasting them?"

"What have I told you about snooping?"

"You know there are rumors, right?"

"What rumors?"

"You tell me who's My Queen and I'll tell you about what everyone seems to be talking about."

There was no deal to be made other than maybe a silent epiphany that I could hear everything on the other side of the walls. I just couldn't see through them.

"I met someone. Well, I've known her for awhile, and you may know who she is and right now we aren't ready. She's not ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To commit. To commit to me. I'm giving her time to handle things. She asked me for that, and I am giving her that."

"Sounds like you've been giving her more than that."

"Carl!"

"Dad!" I challenged him.

"There's a reason your mother has you with me. You know that?"

"I've never heard her having crazy sex."

"I'm sorry about that son. I wasn't aware that we could be overheard and now that I know we will be more discreet about things."

"There's the Holiday Inn. There's the Red Roof and Meryl's Lodge."

"Next time we will be quieter. If there is damn next time."

By the time my Dad dropped me off in the school parking lot, I had noticed something else odd about his behavior, and it was what he didn't do next.

"See you later, Dad."

"Yeah."

He didn't drive off. He was texting again. He didn't even realize I got out of the car or that I was watching him from a distance.

He got out of his cruiser probably thinking that I had gone inside of the school. Principal Benton had already pulled in to her designated parking spot.

Their confrontation happened in the parking lot.

I watched my Dad approach her without any regard to who could be watching or possibly overhearing what looked to be a very controlled, heated disagreement.

I wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but I did find it odd that Andre's mom had on the same clothes from the night before that she wore to our soccer game. Her and my Dad wore matching sweatshirts with our school logo last night which could mean nothing because there were a few that had them on. Easy to dismiss.

My Dad was sitting behind her in the stands cheering our team on. Andre and I were forced into sitting the game out courtesy of coach Abe with the blessings from Principal Benton. Our stunt two weeks ago had affected almost everything in our lives. We were considered God's by our peers but devils by our elders.

I refused to believe what was apparently true.

My Dad was having an affair with my very married Principal who was also my best friend in the world's mother. She is who he's banging, and I'd acquired videotaped proof a few days later that I just sent to all my contacts by accident.

* * *

A/N: I have this on Tumblr with photos. Realized I failed to link it here. I have been on a roll with not updating squat diddly. I have to do better. I will do better!


	2. Andre's Version

"The value of marriage is not that adults produce children, but that children produce adults."  
 **― Peter De Vries**

* * *

I've heard the rumors before the definitive proof. It was annoying.

Carl and I were no longer suspended from school. We weren't even grounded as severely as we thought because both our parents were mentally absent which produced a lax attitude. We were still benched at our soccer game. _Thanks a lot, Coach Abe. You wonder why we lost?_

I noticed my Mom had become very friendly with Carl's Dad, but I would have never thought it was the level of anything more. My violin became my outlet. The piano inside of the formal room of our house became my mind soother. My violin and our piano helped to block out things that I didn't want to think about.

What I realized were subtleties that didn't have an explanation.

My mom was unfocused. She was smiling more. Way more relaxed about things that would typically bring on a lecture while she policed the dishes that were unloaded by me from the dishwasher, making sure every single thing was actually clean and put away neatly. She found disarray that I left behind, but she didn't care. She took care of it and kept humming a happy tune.

Her bedroom was the first indication. The next was when I found Carl's Dad in the half bathroom in the hall inside of our home.

"Hey, Mom! Mom! Mom! Where are you?"

Tossing my book bag on the sofa, I called throughout the house in search of my Mom. She wasn't in the kitchen. The office where she would bring her work home was empty. I knocked twice on her bedroom door that was closed, I twisted the knob, but it was locked.

Locked?

"Mom!" I knocked a few more times before I heard the unlocking of her door. She opened.

"Why is your door locked?" I'd asked.

"Who's the parent?"

There was only one right answer to her question and the act of being defiant prevented any utterance of the obvious. So I skipped the answer and asked her about what I wanted to know.

"Did you get it?"

"Of course I did."

"Where is it?"

"Is that how you speak to me, Andre Michael Benton?"

"Seriously?" I hate when she stalls.

"Seriously?"

"Are you going to answer why your bedroom door was locked?" I'd challenged.

There was something off. Different. My mother couldn't come up with an answer. I think it was what made her-Mom. She wasn't equipped to lie. Stretch the truth but a bold lie, Nah.

"Luckily I had because you would have stepped in here when I haven't dressed appropriately." She had finally answered.

"When are you not ever dressed? Especially at this hour? Are you sick?" I was suspicious and worried.

"No..."

My mom moved from her door to go and get the t-shirts I had asked her to buy since she was going shopping that day. Also, I managed to have my grade go from a strong B to a weak A in math. My reward was a Videogame. I really wanted to know if she had got it like she said she would. She did.

It was something about the air in her room. A waft of it hit me. I had noticed a lone, unpaired black sock, left on the floor by her closed bathroom door. The sight of just that one thing that was out of order made her room seem otherwise untidy. My mom was highly organized. Nothing was ever out of place. Her bathroom door was never closed when not in use. My Dad wasn't home. His car wasn't in the garage.

She caught the direction of my attention.

Yeah…

It was just last week that I caught my Mom in the half bathroom with my best friend's Dad. I had never told Carl about it. I didn't even know how to think about it. My own Dad was always working or on long extended business trips ever since we officially moved to King's County.

My Mom didn't expect me home at the time. I had hurried inside because I had to pee, and it was the closest toilet. Usually, I took my time coming home. I would send her a text of my whereabouts so she wouldn't bombard me with message after messages. Blowing my phone up. I have friends now. I wasn't going to allow her to ruin it for me.

She said he was there to fix the plumbing. It was the same slight smell in the air that I remembered from standing in the door of her bedroom a week ago. What is that scent? It lingered. I stepped back. My Mom stepped out with Carl's Dad.

He hid the pipe, but he forgot to zip. Yeah, he had forgot to zip up the bag he carried his pipe. I eyed him, and his face turned red. It's interesting when you can make a grown adult look away first.

 _"That's your Dad?"_

I had taken the new game over to Carl's. We traded a few of our things for cigarettes, marijuana, lightweight drugs. We like to get high. When we did, we usually had Noah, Zach, and Enid with us or we were with them.

 _My friend Carl nodded._

 _"Wow. He's really giving it to her. I wonder who he's banging?"_

 _We both listened to the headboard banging against the far wall, the rocking of the bed and his Dad grunting as he encouraged for more and faster._

 _"Your Dad's dating?"_

 _"Not sure. I do know he's banging. You know now, too."_

 _"I didn't even know he had a girlfriend."_

 _"I didn't either."_

I think this information confused my mother. It was something I made sure she knew, and it caused her to pause for a long time in the kitchen the morning before the video was released.

It was a Friday. There wasn't any school. My Mom had our breakfast ready, and it wasn't our usual bowl of cereal. She had steak and eggs. I found I could control my outburst at that moment. Instead, I stared at the food on my plate, confused by the change.

She was texting someone. I could tell her mind was on her food and what was replied back to her. I wanted her attention.

"He has a girlfriend." I blurted.

"He who?"

"Carl's Dad."

"Rick?"

"Mr. Grimes. He has a girlfriend."

"Really?" She questioned with a look of disbelief.

"Carl thinks so."

I watched her put her steak knife down to give me her full attention. She had completely stopped eating.

"Whoever Carl's Dad is seeing, well she was at his house the other night."

"She was over at the house the other night?"

"It was pretty clear he's in a relationship. Seriously intense."

"Seriously intense?"

"Could not describe it any other way."

She was quiet for a second. Thinking about what I had told her.

"Might be the new partner he has." I had added for good measure.

"New partner?"

I had no evidence of it. Carl and I met her only once. Her name was Andrea. We had both agreed we would both bang her if given the opportunity. His Dad would have to be crazy to not try and smash. These were things I wasn't equipped to say to my Mom, so instead, I just shrugged.

She began texting. Her phone was pinging every time she had finished. A smile was growing more on her face. She noticed me staring at her. I was in awe. I wondered if my Mom was possessed or if she had been abducted by aliens and the fake Mom sat at the table.

My Mom realized I was staring at her and she quickly removed the smile from her face. She wore a neutral expression that was still softer than I was used to seeing on the daily. She had seemed to consider what I told her.

"Carl's father is not the type to mix business with pleasure."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive." Her response was smug. Very smug. Confident.

I couldn't take another bite. I watched her go back to enjoying her steak.

"You need to eat, Andre. Instead of watching me, I need you to pick up that fork. We both heard what the doctor said."

"I'm not hungry."

"You still need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You'd promised me you wouldn't do this."

"When is Dad coming home?"

"Will you eat?"

"I'm not a baby."

"Then stop acting like it, Andre. Eat. Three more bites."

My medication was working in some areas of my behavior. I had way less outburst. I couldn't help my defiance. My Mom has always said if I know I am doing something that I can control it. Yeah...

The dosage of my medication was reduced and increased. Big pharma and my Doctor have yet to find the right balance, but I am much better.

Before, I would obsess about death. It didn't help that I was at a regular school where I was bullied relentlessly. The typical school was my Dad's idea. He felt I would become normal if I socialized and was around more kids that didn't have what I have. I did a lot of parroting, mimicking my facial expressions to match those around me. I couldn't handle the staring because my response was sometimes delayed. Very delayed. Soon my thoughts morphed into how to kill myself. I had it all planned. I was going to use a rope. Instead, I had a seizure, and when I woke up, I was in a mental ward. Ten thousand dollars a month was the cost given to my parents once the quick denial came from the insurance company. My parents put those six months on a credit card. It was the longest six months of my life.

I no longer want to die. It's no longer an obsession of mine. Carl was able to overcome it. He told me his story, and we bonded from there. I was the new kid at a school where I wasn't much different than anyone else. We all were functioning depending on where we were on the spectrum.

I think that is how things happened between my Mom and his Dad always talking about options, basically finding things in common. Carl and I and every student at "Kings Gifted Academy" has autism. We all fall somewhere on the spectrum. It was the primary reason my parents moved from Atlanta. It was an excellent renown school.

I had met Carl there. Carl's Dad raved about the gifted school when we moved into the neighborhood... Thinking about that time, the way he looked at my Mom then and the way she looked at him...

I wasn't about to eat with my Mom staring at me. She knew this. My Dad would have told my Mom to stop looking at me. She challenged my abilities to tolerate.

"I can't have you looking at me," I told her.

"I can't have you not eat. Eat if you want me to look elsewhere."

Eyes. I can't take eyes looking at me. I can't. I take a bite, for her to concentrate on her food.

"Your Dad will be home today." She had announced.

A few seconds later the doorbell rang, and my Mom went to the front of the house leaving her phone on the table. The screen still unlocked.

 _I was told you have a girlfriend._

 **Kings County:** Who would have told you that?

 _My son._

 **Kings County** : He may be on to something.

 _Really?_

 **Kings County** : Possible.

His suspicion says it is your new work partner.

 **Kings County:** Definitely not. I don't date people I work with.

 _Smart man._

 **Kings County:** I do have something going on with a particular person.

 _Do tell_

 **Kings County** : I was with her just six hours ago.

 _Really?_

 **Kings County:** I had the best quiet sex of my life with her

 _Quiet?_

 **Kings County:** Hoping we can try it again tonight to see if we can be even quieter.

 _My husband will be here tonight._

 **Kings County:** Okay

 _I'm going to do it._

 **Kings County:** Tell me when

 _Once he gets here. I'm going to tell him._

 **Kings County:** Are you sure?

 _I am._

 **Kings County:** I want you. I want what we have out in the open.  
Don't want to keep hiding what I feel when people are looking.

 _Where are you right now?_

 **Kings County:** Walking up on your porch.

 _Are you crazy? Andre is here._

 **Kings County:** Well you had left something behind that I thought would be highly important to you.

 _Like?_

 **Kings County:** Access card.

I'd left my Mom's phone on the kitchen table and walked far enough to see who was at the front door. I knew who my mom was banging, and it was my friend Carl's Dad, Mr. Grimes. She was who he was banging.

Multiple things were happening all at once. One thing didn't take precedence over the other until the sound of a muffled scream and then the shot that silenced the night.

If I could turn back the time, I'm not sure exactly what I could have changed to have prevented my friend Carl from shooting my Dad in the backyard of our home. It was the day the video was sent to every contact including my Mom and his Dad.


	3. Rick's Tiny Detail

"If you want to have a more pleasant,cooperative teenager, be a more understanding, emphatic, consistent, loving parent."  
― **Stephen R. Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change**

* * *

Word was going around that I broke up a happy home when that thing happened between Jessie and me. I didn't like that label, and after that fiasco, I had tried to make a conscious effort to stay away from women who were legally taken or even spoken for.

People in the community wouldn't allow me to shake off that time I had made an enormous mistake by listening to Jessie's version of events regarding the state of her marriage. Her version helped me to accept her leaving her husband. I was okay with her not trying to work things out with him. All that the town saw was that she was crazy to leave a doctor for a Sheriff's Deputy.

She had claimed some things that just weren't true about the abuse she endured. Even her son's said their father never laid a hand on her, but I thought maybe they were protecting their father. What I had done was give her enough courage to leave an otherwise unhappy marriage.

For a long time, I didn't want to believe the conflicting reports from her family and friends. Then I had Lori, my ex-wife ready with her two cents when the only opinion that mattered was Carl's.

I had to break it off. Carl wasn't happy about us, and I had a hard time trying to convince him to come home. It was kind of embarrassing to have his friend's parents know that he didn't like my live-in girlfriend and her two sons. We were going to try and raise the boys under one roof if we could establish a routine. Carl threatened to burn down the house if he ever found them back. He said it was the only way to be sure of getting rid of Roaches.


	4. Principal's Office

_"What a gift we've been given to feel such a conflicting intensity of pleasure! All at once, we feel invigorated during a massive release of built up intention and anxiety. Both lovers hidden in our own little pockets of private pleasure, and quite possibly the most visible we can ever be in our lives."_  
 **― Roberto Hogue**

* * *

Rick would come into the office with his son Carl from time to time. The straw that broke the Camel's back was when he thought I would remove detention for Carl. I had to tell him as clear as the sky was that day. Plain and Simple. He sat in uniform across from my desk inside of my office.

"Carl may run your home life but I am the boss here. I will have him serve his detention in my office and I double dog dare him."

"Excuse me?"

"He will serve, Friday Detention."

"Wait let me-"

"I heard what Carl said the other night. I'd be damn if I would let that child scare me from having someone in my life. I promise you I would light the match for him."

"Carl would take it and burn-"

"Carl would find himself put away again. He has a choice, and you have to make it painfully clear."

"That works with Andre?"

"No. He knows better to threaten. He knows better than that now that he spent six months locked away. You are an officer of the law. You should know better than anyone how our society won't give two shits about what spectrum they are on."

"It was a good enough excuse."

"What?"

"I wanted to end things with Jessie anyway. It wasn't right getting things going with her in the first place. I just-"

I couldn't help but chuckle at how forthcoming he was about such a private situation. My chuckle surprised him just as much as what I was about to tell him.

"Tell me no more. I have an idea that it was her sweet, demure smile that blinded you. I have a Yoga class with her. She has nice tits."

"What?"

"What? You expect me to say ass too?"

"She doesn't have one." He replied and we both found ourselves snickering.

"Doesn't take much for you, huh?" I dug in.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Michonne?" He tipped his head more to one side. He was no longer laughing even though his voice was still laced with amusement.

"Yes. I am." I sat up straight and became the Principal again.

"I'm free tomorrow." He revealed.

"Yeah?" I was surprised that he was actually going to take me up on my offer.

"I would like to attend the seminar with you. I need all the pointers I can get."

"Oh, Great! You can come by tonight. I have the extra ticket at home. A few parents will be in attendance. Hopefully, it's an eye opener for handling a defiant child."

"I hope to take something home that is useful if nothing else."

"Nothing else, huh?"

"I have no idea of a proper response."

There it was happening again. We were having a moment and we seemed to have them more and more often. The only way to describe it was once our eyes locked it was like time suspended itself until something snapped us out of it. Like Carl barging in with a flustered Carol who handled the front office where he was to sit quietly until our meeting was over. Nope. He swings the door open to announce his presence and how he was in need of the verdict.

I told him flat out, "Detention in my office. This Friday. Three Hours. After School. "

"Fuck my life!"

"Carl Sinclaire Grimes!" Rick shouted.

"That language we are adding 15 minutes more to that."

"Ughh." Carl Storms out slamming the door.

I watched the father of the young man, stand up apologize, red-faced with embarrassment and frustration.

"Sorry, Michonne. I will come by tonight. Do you want me to-."

I knew he was referring to Carl. I waved him off like it was no big deal. It wasn't. Carl was continually testing what he could get away with, and it wasn't much by any stretch of the imagination when in school.

"He's good. He went to class. If he hasn't headed there right now, I am adding another 15 minutes more." I spoke loud enough to be heard on the other side of my closed office door where a grunt from Carl could be heard. He was going to class.

* * *

A/N: I saw the glaring error in the first paragraph of the first chapter. SMH. I fixed it.


	5. Andrea Meets the EX

" _We live in a dark and romantic and quite tragic world."_  
 **― Karl Lagerfeld**

* * *

"Who is this, Rick?"

I was immediately sized up by the thin, relatively attractive brunette, with long bone straight hair. She entered the home without a knock or ring of the doorbell.

I knew that Rick Grimes, who was my new assigned partner, was a divorcee. What I didn't know was what type of relationship he still had with his ex-wife. I wondered if they still had some type of sexual relationship. This had all the signs based on her demand to know who I was, without acknowledging me sitting there. I was invited inside.

I was wearing my work uniform. She could have easily deduced that I was an officer of the law.

"Who is this, Officer Grimes?"

"My **Ex**. Officer Harrison, this is my Ex." Officer Grimes had given his wife his full attention when he continued, "I thought we had an agreement."

"You can call me, Andrea, **Ex**." I couldn't help making fun at the expense of two people that gave the impression they would much rather be on separate planets than in the same room with each other, if given the choice.

"Lori." She was giving her husband a steely stare down while she informed me of her actual name.

"Nice to have been formally introduced to you, Lori."

I was leaning forward thinking we would shake hands; she waved me off with the back of her hand. I found out later she hates blondes. Her ex-husband has a thing for them based on the rumors. If that was all it took he was a shallow dick head. I don't have any patience for men of his type.

"He doesn't want to stay with me, Rick. He has gotten to the point of..."

The ex-wife trailed off with me sitting there. She gave me a look like I should know to excuse myself. I did not recuse myself to provide them with privacy. I was all ears.

"Don't worry about, Officer Harrison knowing what's going on with Carl. She knows enough like most people around here, knows Carl and the stunts he has pulled. Where is he now?"

"Jetted over to his friend. According to him, Andre is the only person that understands him. Andre also has the best family that knows when to piss off."

There was a brief glimpse of confusion and amusement that flickered on his face. I was caught off guard by a noticeable attractive quality he had about him. He was in the middle of modeling his current outfit he was wearing. His ex-wife's sudden arrival, stalled our camaraderie.

"Officer Grimes?"

I wasn't sure if my partner would prefer that I waited outside to give him and his ex time to talk.

"No. Stay. "

He waved his Ex off and proceeded with what he was most anxious about. For whatever reason he needed a woman's opinion. The blue-eyed cowboy wanted to know what to wear that didn't consist of his uniform, sweats or dressed to hang out at the Honky Tonk Bar and Lounge in a wide brim hat and cowboy boots. What would a guy like him wear to a seminar that was happening later that evening?

He would only disclose that he was invited to a Seminar but not who invited him. I had joked if it was a sexy single. He answered with a nod and then a quick shake of his head as if a thought that played in his mind was something he felt guilty about admitting or sharing. He was guarded.

I sensed something was amiss, though still too early to tell what exactly.

He was unsure if he should go dressed like a Dad or if by dressing a little better would it imply he was on a date. He didn't want to look like he was on a date but he didn't want to look like he wasn't on a date. It was challenging to say the least, because his middle ground was date and adding the necktie made him look like he was the one to give the lecture.

"The slacks are better than the jeans."

"So I should go looking like a Dad you think?"

"But you are a Dad, Rick," Lori stated the obvious.

"From the three examples you have shown me, I would err on Dad that knows how to dress. I would go with the dark slacks and a nice button down shirt with a blazer since there is a chill in the air."

"Is this why she is here, Rick, to give you advice on how to dress? How many years have I tried to get you to dress up a little while we were married?"


	6. Lori Banged and Banged

"I've come to see "Bitches be crazy" as less a statement by men that women are crazy or even a reappropriated statement by women defending their own madness. Instead, I see the phrase and imagine a colon after "bitches," rendering it a command to other women, a battle cry. It is a way of saying, "We took back 'bitch' already. And now we have come for 'crazy."  
 **― Alana Massey, All the Lives I Want: Essays About My Best Friends Who Happen to Be Famous Strangers**

* * *

Something was different. I couldn't just walk into the house. I know it was now my Ex-husband's house. He kept the front door unlocked when he was home. Wasn't the smartest thing to do but I am talking about Rick.

His pickup truck was in the driveway, and it was his day off. I had called his cellphone more than ten times to let him know that Carl had run away again. I wanted to see if he could make sure that his destination was Andre's and not California where he felt life for him would be so much easier.

The door was locked. The curtains were drawn. I was just about to knock on the door when I heard the familiar sound of Rick grunting. It was a sex sound he would make when he was really into it. When he made that sound it meant he was close to the finish line. Whoever he had inside with him was an octave higher. I cancelled her out and only heard my former husband.

"Your ass. Your ass. Yes. Oh My God, Oh my God, Oh myyyyyyy. (Grunt). Oh, damn, Ohhh, yes. Yes. (Grunt). (Grunt). I'm about to come too quick. Wait...Ohh. Nooo. Stay still. Please stay still (hiss). I have to pull the fuck out. I CAN'T fucking pull out I'm going to blow, oh shit...Grunt Grunt Grunt. I must have thiissss. Grunt.

I banged. I banged and banged. I was in bitch mode when I pounded the front door. I wanted him and who ever he was screwing to know I was outside. I couldn't see who he had in the house with him. I had every reason to be there if our son was missing.

Rick finally opened the door. He wore the look of dazed and confused, very well. I stepped inside before he knew to block my entry.

There was an odor. I could smell it. It was familiar. The scent of Rick perfumed the air. He had a certain rawness to him that was uniquely his, compared to other men I have been with, since our last sex lapse almost a year ago when he had finally gotten rid of that Jessie.

It was a lapse of judgment on both our parts. It lasted one night. I had no clue what it was that Jessie ranted and raved about when it came to my EX. He was dull in bed. He was still a Dud. To this day, Rick doesn't know that was one of the factors for me to seek a way out of our marriage. The whole notion would crush him. Now to hear this from outside the front door was entirely too much.

Our Divorce wasn't pleasant. We worked hard to get to the point where we were now, Civil. I was unconsciously dismantling everything we worked hard to achieve when we were in the same breathing area.

"Who's here, Rick?" I couldn't wait for him to make himself presentable. He was sweaty, and the t-shirt did little to hide that fact. He was flushed.

"Who, what?"

"I smell a woman." I was point blank with him. I knew his delay in response and feigning ignorance would go on as long as I allowed it.

"What?"

"What is it with you and these questions to my question as if you don't know what the hell I am talking about."

"It is none of your business."

I eyed the closed bedroom door and the blue lacy bra that dangled from the coffee table.

I reached for it, and he snatched it from my hands.

He was having sex with someone. Not only could I smell him, I could smell her. Her scent laced with his. along with her store bought fragrance, was a stifling combination. I began to open the window in the living room where his sex romp had just transpired. He slammed the window closed.

"Why are you here? I thought we had an arrangement." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"When co-parenting, you don't have the option to decide when a fucking emergency happens. You don't turn your fucking phone off Rick. Emergencies need to be reported, and you need to be fucking available to have them reported to you. Parenting is 24 fucking hours a day."

"I know that. Tell me what's going on." He controlled the volume of his voice to make it seem like I was the crazy one.

"How is it you can be so calm at a time like this?"

"Because you are more worried about who I am fucking than our son."


	7. Shane's Credentials

"I'll be your friend until you find a better one."  
 **― Carla H. Krueger, Sleeping with the Sun**

* * *

I had got the call.

I. Got. The. Call.

I was so frustrated and angry. I was more angry than frustrated. I wanted to shatter my cell phone against the nearest wall and watch the pieces fall to the floor. That was what I wanted to do. I was a little abrupt with the lap dancer at the upscale strip joint in Las Vegas, Nevada. She stumbled to the floor. I reached my hand to her to help her up but she told me to 'Fuck off'! I went straight to the airport and flew to Georgia.

"Are you fucking trying to go to prison?" I had asked Rick.

"No."

"Then why the fuck would you call me? I am a divorce attorney. You need a Criminal defense attorney."

Rick's bond was 500k. I put up the 50 grand to get my friend out. Carl was another matter. He was going to spend some time thinking about his actions but knowing Carl; he just checked something off of his mental bucket list.

"I need your help."

"Are you divorcing Lori. Wait, you already divorced her and I helped with that. Did you marry someone recently that I don't know anything about? Did you marry someone your ass met online?"

"I am not asking-"

"Buddy, that's the shit I can help you with. I am the number one attorney for men. I specialize assisting Dad's from getting the short end of the stick in a divorce proceeding. I've just listed my credentials, and you tell me that it isn't what you are seeking then why in the hell did you call?"

I knew why he called. I was giving him a fucking hard time. Plus we were talking in an area where our conversation could have ears peeled to hear every word we spoke.

Anyone that was in trouble, the kind he was in with Negan as the presiding Judge and sometimes self-appointed juror and executioner, Rick was going to need legal muscle to pull strings from behind the scenes and the gates of hell.

I could help him but I had no idea who could help the Teen arsonist in waiting. I was the one who made the phone call to Senior Grimes. Told him I had booked a flight out and the cost for Carl's bond was more than I was willing to lose.

The thing that couldn't be overlooked was that Carl killed a kid before.


	8. Daryl The Messenger

"They had battled and bloodied one another, they had kept secrets, broken hearts, lied, betrayed, exiled, they had walked away, said goodbye and sworn it was forever, and somehow, every time, they had mended, they had forgiven, they had survived. Some mistakes could never be fixed - some, but not all. Some people can't be driven away, no matter how hard you try. Some friendships won't break."  
 **― Robin Wasserman, Greed**

* * *

"What kind of friend are you?" I'd questioned.

"What kind of friend am I?" Shane sounded indignant.

"You heard me." I wasn't going to repeat myself.

"I'd heard you, Daryl, but I can't believe you would ask me some shit like that."

"You left his son? You left Carl?"

"Has everyone forgotten that he killed a Kid? He runs away and does his own thing? Has that really been pushed aside, glossed over, or just like amnesia, it's in the memory bank, just not recalled?"

"You are the only one that has the financial means out of all of us. Senior Grimes is the other option."

"The only fucking option."

I didn't know what to make of the situation. It was all over the radio broadcast, local television news, and King's County paper for those who still read the ancient way.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to find that black chick."

"Hmmm. Black chick."

"What's her name?"

"Black Chick."

"Hey, fucker. What's her name?"

"No clue. Black Chick is all I got from you."

"Fucking hell."

"Describe."

"She was black. Wild hair. Pretty nice teeth. They didn't have the roundness to them as some blacks have. Short stubby looking roundness to their teeth. Her's was more..."

Click.

There was a time his bullshit and the bullshit of others would have been tolerated. As the years had gone by, I have become a less patient man to blatant racist, ignorant racist, covert racism and stupidity in general. I didn't have time for it and the only way to express it was to hang up or walk away. I happened to be on the phone with Shane Walsh. He was a well to do Attorney and a ladies man from high school and the magnetism he had with women followed him through life. His dick was racist and he wasn't ashamed to let a woman of color know he had a preference.

Well, I knew exactly who he was referencing, Sasha Malone. She was the most beautiful, educated, sexiest woman I had ever dated and was dumped by. Shit still hurt. Two fucking years later I was still pining away for her ass.

The phone rung three times before I decided to answer. It was Shane again.

"The beautiful Attorney that was crazy enough to call you her boyfriend. I guess I don't need her name but could you get a message to her to give to Rosita?"

"I could do that." This gave me an excuse to call Sasha. My heart began to come alive with every possibility that my brain would allow me to entertain. "What's the message?"

"Lucille. Sincerely, Big Ugly Nose Man."

"What?"

"Yeah. She will know it came from me." Shane hung up and I stared at the phone.


	9. Senior's Highly Anticipated Stroke

"He had the look of one who had drunk the cup of life and found a dead beetle at the bottom."  
― P.G. Wodehouse

* * *

I heard the crash of the phone hitting the floor and the long drawn out wail from my sweet loving Ella from way across the house. I don't know what was more devastating, seeing our grown ass son Richard Sinclaire Grimes face buried in the back of a black woman's ass or-Our son and our Grandson Carl Sinclaire Grimes, being jailed for a possible attempted homicide. I awaited the full story from Shane.

"Yes, Ms. Rosa?"

Our housekeeper rapt lightly on my office door where I had hoped a stroke would take me out and she would find my dead body. It did not happen. I have a healthy heart to handle this extreme stress.

"Checking to make sure you are alive."

"My sweet Ella?"

"Barely. I gave her an Ambien."

"Thank you, Ms. Rosa."

"Do you want me to check on you in the next 5 minutes?"

"No. Make it 10 minutes. I'm sure a stroke would need that length of time to hit me like a ton of bricks." I was reading over all the warning signs before Rosa came to do her visual check. I had none.

"I saw the video too, Senior."

"Good God."

"Ms. Ella wasn't sure what she was seeing, and she asked me to watch and describe."

"Oh, Good God!"

"I told her she should be proud; her son is an Animal."

"Oh, Good God. Enough."

I had enough of breathing and life. I had just finished wiring a 100 grand to Shane and another 300 grand to an offshore account. Shane instructed me it was the retainer and to make sure and note, From Big Ugly Nose Man.

"I will be back in eight minutes. You did update your DNR?"

My do not resuscitate order. My sweet Ella May Grimes would not allow it. I buried my face in my hands. I had enough. "Bring me an Ambien if I am not Dead by the time you come back."


	10. Michonne Wasn't On A Date

"Insatiable is my desire for you,  
Insane is my love you,  
Limitless are my boundaries for you, True are my feelings for you,  
Wildest are my imaginations for you, Intense is my passion for you,  
Soul is my offering for you,  
Commitment is my promise to you,"  
 **― Pushpa Rana, Just the Way I Feel**

* * *

I wasn't sure what in the hell was going on with my backyard neighbor, but I didn't have the heart to tell Rick, that this was a Seminar we were going to, and not a date. I didn't understand the flowers he gave in exchange for our outing. His explanation was sufficient since I didn't allow him to pay for the ticket, it was his way of expressing gratitude. The flowers were pretty and I watched him pluck them from the side of his neighbors house. I couldn't help but giggle like a silly school girl. He had a great deal of boyish southern charm. I had to force my mind to remember every juicy detail that was disclosed to me by Jessie that said it was his allure. I was strangely fascinated with how easily he was flattered or moved to laughter during some very serious candor between us.

I sometimes watch him when he is doing yard work. Sometimes it so hot, he takes his shirt off and cools himself down after taking a few gulps from the water hose that he eventually lifts over his head.

He had only caught me staring once.

There is something to be said about hanging sheets to dry outside. Fresh air. I had become accustomed to this way from childhood when I lived with my Granny in the country. I don't do it often with a dryer in the house, but he gave me an excuse to erect a temporary clothesline for one of his shows.

It was the day a sudden storm was threatening to soak and blow my sheets away. I had just arrived home and forgot them still hanging outside from the day before. It was a Friday. Early evening. It was still light out and Andre was out of town for a week with his Dad.

Just one look at the darkening sky. I had no one to help me capture the pillowcases that were lifted by the wind like an eyeless Casper the Friendly ghost.

Rick saw the predicament when he got out of his pickup truck, putting his groceries down on his front steps. He saved the day by locating the last fitted sheet and the matching pillowcase when the rain came down in barrels.

We were laughing like lunatics, and before we knew it, we had stripped each other naked right there in my laundry room. He had me in such a way on top of the washer and Dryer that I had the most powerful orgasm of my life.


	11. Rick Wants A Squeeze

"Maybe you've had skin next to your skin, but when was the last time you let yourself be touched?"  
 **― Tom Spanbauer, In the City of Shy Hunters**

* * *

The power of touch. There were several speakers, and it was such an eye-opening experience to get some first-hand information from a man about the importance of touching. The presentation helped to know that I wasn't alone in my hunger for touch.

Sometimes the craving could drive a person insane if there wasn't an outlet. Skin hunger. It was real.

A suggestion was to get a pet and that was out of the question. Not with Carl in the home. A pet would have to be his idea and something he wants, anything else would be too much for my brain to process why he thought it was a good idea to do x,y, and z to a bunny.

Michonne was the first person that I had ever disclosed this information too. We had created such a different type of friendship.

"What's the longest for you?"

"A year. You?"

"Six months." She revealed how long it was since her husband just gave her a simple reassuring touch.

"Sometimes it is all I want. I'm not looking for anything sexual, you know. I just want a hand to hold or sometimes a nice squeeze."

"You don't ask for much." She smiled and I couldn't help but to smile back.

"I don't. Sometimes I hug someone that needs it, but there isn't anyone around that I can whisper, squeeze me back together."

She reached for my hand from across the small table that separated us inside Mabel's diner where we shared a coffee and stories about our son's never changing limitation when it came to boundaries, socialization, and coping skills. My hand in hers. She turned my palm up right and she did soft circles until the sensation was too much and we couldn't contain our laughter when I did it back to her.

I will admit, that I didn't want that night, our first outing together to end. I enjoyed learning with her at the seminar and the few hours we shared over the last pastry. When it was over, I walked into her embrace and got a nice squeeze. It was the second one for us since we had to do it at the Seminar. This time was less awkward. I felt strangely whole.

I watched her that night. I watched her silhouette move throughout her home before the final light was shut off to what I would assume was her bedroom. The way the moon was shone, for a moment I thought I glimpsed her staring out of her window towards where I stood. I stepped back, further into the darkness of my room. I could tell she had closed her curtains.

* * *

A/N:

I do have stories that don't consist of Infidelity. (Had to get that out of the way)

I realized this is a rare depiction of infidelity from how I would normally write. Normally, I write it from the angle that Rick is married and Michonne is the other woman or they are both Married. I think the only story I have where Michonne is married and Rick isn't is Temporary View. I have to review my story catalogue to verify this as a fact. I know one reviewer had brought this to my attention months and months ago...hmmm.


	12. Sasha Got The Message

"I know that's what people say- you'll get over it. I'd say it, too. But I know it's not true. Oh, youll be happy again, never fear. But you won't forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him."  
 **― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn**

* * *

Daryl, I told you about Prank Calling me."

"How did you know it was me, Sasha?

"Because you haven't changed your phone number."

"If you still know my number then why haven't you called? You know damn well I would take you back. I wouldn't say no to you."

"Daryl. I don't want you back. I don't. I am hanging up."

"It's like that Sasha? You got me missing you and wishing I was your man."

"This is so stupid."

"Nah, fuck the dumb shit. This isn't dumb. We should be together."

"Okay. No. I am hanging up, now."

"It's been two years. 1, 2. I know damn well you want to be back with me. All you have to do is say, Daryl, I want your greasy country red neck ass back."

"I dumped you, Daryl. It doesn't work like that."

"You have a man, now?"

"None of your business."

"Figured you ain't if you still on the phone with me and you said my name out loud a couple of times so the bastard could know you are trying to take back your real ride or die."

"I'm hanging up, Daryl."

"You said that ten times. Just think about it. Admit you want me back. If you want me back, I will come back to you, Sasha."

"Are you drunk?"

"Nah. I have an important message to pass along to you though. It's from the Big Ugly Nose man."

Daryl.

Daryl was the love of my life but I had to put that, what we had behind me. He wasn't trying to elevate himself to any level than watching me climb. He was supportive. He cared. He loved me as much as working in a garage repairing cars. A lawyer with a Mechanic. Ughhhh. I fricking still love him and it's the only reason I still kept talking to him on that night. Luckily I did because he had an important message.

I had passed the message on to Rosita and she, in turn, gave me a message to give to my messenger on where to have the money deposited and only then would she entertain turning down the request for her help.


	13. Rick Knows Who He Wants

"I know what I have given you...  
I do not know what you have received."  
― Antonio Porchia

* * *

"Will somebody, hold that fucker back?"

Abe was trying to bring to everyone's attention that I was on the scene. Too bad only Spencer got the memo and Lucky for me it was a quick strike on the jaw, to bring him down, and out of my way.

"God Damn it, Grimes! You just knocked out a fellow officer of the law." Abe yelled.

Spencer wasn't any match for me. I stepped over his body to get to who could have been my dead son lying in a ditch for four days.

I heard there was a body found, is it Carl?" I pushed past everyone except Abe who slowly moved aside for me to take a glimpse.

"You tell me."

I took one glance at the young man in the ditch. He wasn't dressed the way Carl would leave the house number one and number two; it wasn't Carl. I had no idea where he was, and we were going on the fourth night of trying to locate him. I noticed I had two miss calls from Michonne. A hundred from Lori wanting an update. I called Lori and told her it wasn't Carl. I returned the call to Michonne who had the news that eased my mind but kept my heart and soul heavy. She had found Carl. He was safe, inside her home showered and asleep with Andre on the couch.

I wanted to go inside of her home and yank him out, but instead, I gave in to the stress and fell to my knees in the middle of her dim lit backyard and cried. She got to her knees and held me to her. She allowed me to soil her with my tears that were pouring out. I loved that she knew to squeeze when I needed to feel connected the most. We were like that for several minutes and soon I felt the heaviness diminish and relief came in it's place.

"I took the liberties and had a long talk with Carl. I told him that he needs to think more about others than just himself and how he feels. We all have feelings in this thing or place or world. I wasn't sure how he saw things but I think he is focused after our talk or he just wanted me to stop talking."

I couldn't help chuckling and clumsily try to wipe the wetness from her skin. I only smeared my tears before I realized I was touching her in a way that she took my hand to stop. I was focused then on what I was feeling for this woman who had my own son under her thumb and could easily have me under it too, willingly.

"Don't worry about that, Rick."

"I should be worried about how it looks for me to break down like I just did with you. But I'm not." Our fingers began to intertwine.

"I appreciate that you trust me with what you have going on. Don't ever be embarrassed by that. What you and I do or share, talk about, discuss is between us. I mean that."

"I never asked for that from Jessie."

"You never have to ask for that from me, Rick. I am not Jessie."

"People won't tell me what she's saying about me, Michonne. I have no idea if women are laughing or what is going on behind the constant smiling. I was a fool. I know that. I'm not a fool."

"She has done nothing but complimented. One thing that I am aware of is that Jessie has not said a bad word about you. If you have women smiling it's because they are wondering if it is true. If any of it is true."

"What's true?"

"That you are an excellent kisser for one and that you are terrific in bed."

"What?"

"So if women are smiling at you or giving you that come hither look, that is a green light, Rick. Missed opportunities by you to find someone that could possibly love you back."

"Is that so." I was quiet for a minute.

"When I saw you were pulling up, I brought us bottled water out. It's on the porch step right there."

"You want me to get one?"

"Do you mind. I want to see if what Jessie said about the way you walk after getting up is true."

I did as requested. I watched her watch me. I grabbed the two bottles and sat down on the steps. I waited for her to realize if she was thirsty for what I had to offer she was going to have to come and get it. It was hers anyway.


	14. Abe Was On The Scene

_"The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place."_  
 **― George Bernard Shaw**

* * *

I had just arrived at the scene of where the body was found. I didn't get a chance to look since I was stopped by at least ten people and I was the lead homicide detective. I was being briefed every step when he, Rick Grimes pulled up to the scene.

Spencer wasn't upset that he was knocked out cold by Grimes and that was a relief. I did give everyone else a good talking down because Spencer shouldn't have been the only one dumb enough to stand up against Deputy Grimes.

I have always volunteered as the soccer coach for the last five years down over at Kings Gifted Academy. I enjoyed coaching, and Carl had natural abilities as did Andre. I was thankful it wasn't Grime's son in that ditch. Closer inspection of the body, it wasn't Carl.

I overheard the two conversations that night. The one to his ex-wife Lori and the one he made to Michonne.

"I am only calling when I have news! The news is, It's not him! Did you not hear me? IT IS NOT CARL...then tell me what in the hell are you going on and on about? I am the one fucking out here looking for him, Lori. Where are you?! Okay...you put up posters. You put the message out on Facebook... I understand that, but he was supposed to be with you. You know what Lori, fuck this shit. If you want me to keep him, I will Keep him. He will only go to you if he wants. You want to give him that power because you know he will exercise the fuck out of it. You may never see him for the rest of your life. Do you want that?... Damn you...I'm a bastard? …"

I was like damn. I have heard about that marriage. It was stable for 10 years from everyone's viewpoint to one day about four years ago things started going downhill. Grimes was taking a lot of leave and then with Carl killing that kid...

The body of the young male in the ditch was taken to the coroner while a few of us still scrounged around for any clues. I was surprised that he was still hanging around pacing. I walked over to him when he held up a finger to halt me. He was back to talking to whoever answered which in no time was revealed to be Mrs. Benton.

"Hey, I'm sorry I missed your call...Hello? Hello? Hello, Michonne, can you hear me?... Yeah, I'm sorry that I missed both your calls... Wait, what? Carl's with you?... I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to listen to your message...I know...Thank you for going out helping to try and find him with me. Thank you as always for everything...Carl would always choose to go to you... I will be there in 10 minutes. Thank you. Thank you. Michonne..."

I backed away. This man was a wreck. An emotional wreck and I sensed his attachment to Ms. Benton went much deeper than anyone was aware.

* * *

A/N: I failed to update this like I said yesterday. (Sugaree)

To those who are into this story expect a Boom, Boom, Boom. I plan to update All I Need by tomorrow evening.

P.S. Did everyone forget that Carl killed a kid on the show? Curious.


	15. Spencer's Knock Out

"We men really, really, really like sex. We like sex so much, many of us are willing to risk getting in serious trouble to get it. That's why laws against rape haven't stopped rape, and why laws against prostitution haven't stopped prostitution, and why men who cheat on their wives would continue to cheat even if it was illegal, and why gay men continue to be gay even in fundamentalist religious countries like Saudi Arabia, where homosexuality is punishable by death."  
 **― Oliver Markus Malloy, Why Men And Women Can't Be Friends: Honest Relationship Advice for Women**

* * *

I deserved it. No one knew why I didn't pursue charges against Grimes and I wasn't going to let the cat out the bag.

I was a young Rookie at the time. Four years ago I was banging his wife. I wasn't the only one. I was the one that he caught, and Lori talked him out of either killing me that day or beating the living shit out of me.

The length of time I have been on the force, I actively stayed out of his way. His threat reinforced my need to take heed. I was on the front end a couple of weeks ago to Grimes steely stare down at the station. I was standing in front of his desk. I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth.

"I will fuck you up if you think to open your mouth to ask me anything. Do we have an understanding?"

Beth, my Fiancée, wanted me to ask him if he would be the Godfather of our first child. Yeah. Wasn't going to happen.

I was able to convince Beth that I was okay with two lesbians, Tara and Denise than a man who may remarry one day and the wife may not take too kindly in caring for our child if anything were to happen to us. Tara and Denise were initially Beth's first choice anyway. I agreed for them than having to explain this thing between Grimes and me.

The call to stop Grimes, who appeared on the scene was made, and I gladly took the sucker punch he delivered so I could ask him if he would be the Godparent to our child since Tara and Denise had broken up.


	16. Michonne's Cure

_"True love is not a hide and seek game: in true love, both lovers seek each other."_  
 _―_ **Michael Bassey Johnson**

* * *

We were spending time together in ways that wasn't attracting attention at first, innocent. If I had acquired tickets to something that was enlightening or if I was aware of a certain book by a well known author, Rick was always ready to be a plus one more to our small group. He was eager to increase his knowledge and skills when dealing and coping with an autistic child.

Rick was very thoughtful. Our friendship was slowly evolving to a deeper level before we were fully aware that we were tumbling fast down a rabbit hole.

I had a long day. I'd had a day. I was tired, and I was under the weather or it could have been that damn teacher's potluck. I could not go to the seminar. I had called and gave my apologies to everyone in advance. I was coming down with either the flu or food poisoning, and it hit me unexpectedly like a ton of bricks. I was grateful that I made it through the day at school without upchucking.

Andre and Carl were in the front yard when I drove up the driveway and parked my car inside of the garage. The first thing I noticed was the smell of food wafting in the air. I could smell the essence of freshly chopped celery, garlic, thymes and something else that eluded my senses.

Upon closing my car door, Andre and Carl came over still tossing the ball back and forth from one knee, the side of the foot to the other.

"You do look terrible." Carl announced after moving the long bang from his eyes, still inspecting my possible attractiveness or wellness.

"Oh,Thanks." I made sure the sarcasm was reflected in my voice even though it possibly went unnoticed by the young man that looked like a younger version of his father.

"My Dad is weird." Carl stated.

"Well, he is weird." I agreed readily not sure what made _his Dad_ weird.

"See, I told you," Andre responded to Carl with an elbow nudge without losing the timing they had with catching the balls on the top of their heads. It seemed that I had confirmed whatever suspicions they had discussed privately at some point.

"He's in your Kitchen."

I immediately became alarmed.

"Why is he in my Kitchen?"

I didn't wait for a response. I made my way inside of my house entering the mudroom that was off of the kitchen to find Rick with a dish towel draped across his shoulder and vegetables being discarded in my disposal, while a large pot was coming down from a hard boil and the timer from my oven indicated that whatever that would normally smell like heaven, was finished.

"Hi."

"Hi."

We were having a moment. A moment that was cut short with the boys coming inside still kicking the ball around on different parts of their bodies.

"Andre Michael Benton, what are the rules?"

"No balls larger than a meatball is allowed inside of the house."

"What are you planning to do with that knowledge?"

"Exercise it. Come on Carl. We have to keep the soccer balls in the garage. You heard my Mom."

"I heard Principal Benton," Carl spoke to Andre, avoiding all eye contact with the adults standing in the kitchen. "I have no idea what your Mom would sound like."

"Thank you," I told them both.

"Does your, Mom, ever stop being the Principal?" Carl asked.

"No." Andre replied.

I watched them retrace their steps before I gave my attention to the man that had my heart in my stomach or I was terribly sick. Either or would have been correct.

"What are you doing, Rick?"

"I heard you were sick."

"And?" I motioned with little effort at dramatics to why was he in my kitchen doing, what he was doing.

"I wanted to share a cure."

"Why?"

"Because you are sick?"

"You were supposed to go to Learning to Communicate." I reminded him where he was supposed to be at the very moment we were conversing.

"I'd canceled. The other's are going. I gave them some money from the both of us to buy the book. I thought we, you and I could read and discuss later."

"Why?"

"Because I thought it would give us more to talk about and implement. Discuss what worked and what failed if anything works at all."

"You know you are almost making things obvious?"

"How's that?"

I demonstrated again with my hands to what he was doing in my kitchen.

"Anyone else expected to come by today?"

"No."

"Then obvious to whom?"

"To me."

"Then that is all that matters right now. I have this friend. She's sick, and I want to take care of her because I know she won't take care of herself."

"Is that the story?"

"And I'm sticking to it." He smirked.

I fought the smile that was trying to grow along with his as we locked eyes. He was oozing that boyish charm. We were making an admission that seared itself somewhere in our mind, body, heart and soul. I knew that it had no right to thrive.

"I think you still should have gone, Rick. Nursing me does not change the fact that you have a very defiant child."

"You do too."

"Andre listens."

"Carl does too. He followed, Andre. I thought this was also good enough excuse to immerse myself in your space to see with my own two eyes how this thing works for you and my son Carl. He prefers it over here, and I would like to know why?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Probably because he secretly can't get enough of the Principal." I remarked walking away.

I headed towards the powder bathroom to wash my hands when I heard a response from Rick, but I didn't look back or acknowledge that I heard him when Carl was there to parrot.

"Father like son." Rick spoke more to himself.

"Father like son, what?" Carl asked confused.

Once I finished drying my hands, I instructed Andre and Carl to do the same and not in my Kitchen sink.

"I took the liberty to make us some cure-all chicken soup and fresh bread. Why does your kitchen look like you don't cook at all?"

"I don't. Doesn't mean I can't. I hope you can get it back to its original state or I will be forced to assist."

"You don't look good, Michonne."

"What is it about you and Carl and all this straightforward honesty. I feel like crap, but I don't want to know I look like crap."

"Beautiful lady, I-"

I went weak. Not over his words. I was sick, and he swiftly lifted me off of my feet and carried me through the house. Rick repeatedly requested assistance from Andre to point out which door was to my bedroom.

Three hours later I'd awakened in my bed, still fully clothed and my shoes removed. I had checked the time, and it was after 9 pm. Two bottled waters was on my nightstand. I gulped the first one and half of the second one before I had to rush to my toilet to throw up. I rinsed my mouth and brushed away the taste of the culprit from the potluck.

Rick and his son were still in my home on the couch with Andre, watching the first episode of the Walking Dead that was premiering for the first time. They all gasped at the sight of the young Zombie girl holding a doll and getting shot in the head. I was missing every bit of it.

Before I could say a word Andre responded, "Don't worry, Mom. I made sure it is on DVR."

I didn't look towards Rick even though I knew he was looking away from the flat screen television mounted above the stone fireplace inspecting me or an eye signal. I gave him none.

I stepped back in my room and showered. I spent two seconds too long debating whether or not to put a bra on or not. I went without. I chose a baggy enough sweatshirt and sweatpants before stepping back into the area where I could be seen walking by to go and inspect my kitchen.

My kitchen was clean. It met my approval. I knew he was standing there a couple of feet behind me. I turned to confirm he was standing there appearing self-assured about more than my kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"Only what you allow me, Michonne."

"I am not well."

"How long you've been unwell?"

"For a while, it seems."

"I have the cure."

"Where is it?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"Your ailment."

"I'm starving."

"For?"

"The Cure."

* * *

A/N: I have fallen behind on this. My apologies (Sugaree). Those who are interested, Expect the Boom, Boom, Boom to this and an Update to All I Need.


	17. Rick And His Second Kiss

"I've heard people say that they lose themselves in a kiss. But in that moment, it was the opposite for me. I felt like I found myself. Not how I wished I was, or who I was afraid I was becoming, but who I really was."  
 **― Jon Skovron, Struts & Frets **

* * *

I'd made myself more accessible to Michonne. I had become someone that was very different, and it wasn't something I objected to in the least. She made me more interesting.

I started going out with Michonne, and I met more people that I would have never encountered if it wasn't for knowing her. Her circle of friends and ever-growing connections to people that were all striving to be more aware of our role in our children's lives was a club or group where I fit without force.

The books. I haven't picked up a book since mandatory reading in Highschool, and that was YEARS ago. Michonne's desires became mine, and the way she would light up when I questioned a particular passage or chapter, I would try and read the Holy Bible if I could keep the light in her eyes lit and our conversations sparking in every direction. I've never did or done what I find myself willing to do with Michonne, when I was married to Lori or any other woman I dated.

Carl and Andre were still in the living room watching the rest of the new show called the Walking Dead while I was in the kitchen discussing _the cure_ with Michonne.

This wasn't our first kiss. It was our second. The first kiss happened a few days ago, and it caught us both off guard. This second kiss caught me by surprise that I almost didn't kiss her back because I was stunned that she wanted to do this, that, right then and there.

She walked into me. The back of my palms left the counter to halt or maintain the mere inches between us by resting my hands on her hips. Any closer she would cause a major hard on and be completely aware of what her closeness does and my inability to reel this thing between us back to platonic.

Her lips were soft, pillowy, thicker. Her breath this time was sweet spearmint, different from the first kiss that had a hint of alcohol and beer nuts.

Her hands were pressing my head down closer. The request for entry by the light prodding of her tongue was a decision that took entirely no time to deliberate over. I welcomed it by greeting her almost excitedly with my own. She didn't pull back nor rein in like I expected.

For a moment I felt my mind begin to lose all sense of my surroundings when what started out as a nice warm flicker was threatening to become a forest fire. Neither one of us was trying to come up for air.

She tipped her head to the right, and I almost buckled at the knees if it wasn't for the granite kitchen countertop behind me. She moaned in my damn mouth and my response was an uncontrolled hum.

Michonne pressed past the inches that separated us. I literally knew all bets were off keeping this thing between us at hugs and kisses. My hands on her hips crushed her to my body before leaving to travel up her back, while my arms enclosed her. There was no mistaking that I wanted her and that she wanted me.

It was Carl who made enough noise, which gave us enough time to break apart or we would have been caught.

"Yeah, I think it is cool."

"Maybe you can come over every Sunday and watch it over here."

"Okay."

"Wish there were real Zombies. I hate school."

"Me too."

The focus was instantly on me when the two entered the Kitchen. Michonne made herself look busy with slicing a piece of freshly baked bread that I had made to go with the chicken soup that was stored in her refrigerator.

"Are you okay, Dad?"

"Um, Yeah."

"Why are you pulling your shirt out of your pants?" Andre asked his head tipped slightly to one side.

"Trying to get more comfortable." There was no way I was going to communicate honestly with her son nor my own. I was trying to hide an out of control arousal.

"You are uncomfortable?" Andre asked confused by my behavior.

"A little bit." I was flustered trying to figure out an angle or a way in which to stand that wouldn't give much of anything away.

"Principal Benton has that affect on people. Let's get some ice cream, Andre."

"What?" Michonne questioned with a mouthful of bread she had yet to chew.

Carl as usual had enough of my antics and was ready to focus on what he wanted to focus on and that was the Jackpot of Ice cream selection at the Benton's house and Zombies.


	18. What Olivia Saw

"Shrinking in a corner,  
pressed into the wall;  
do they know I'm present,  
am I here at all?

Is there a written rule book,  
that tells you how to be—  
all the right things to talk about—  
that everyone has but me?

Slowly I am withering—  
a flowered deprived of sun;  
longing to belong to—  
somewhere or someone."  
― **Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure **

* * *

Most of the students were excited about that night's Talent Show. Everyone was anticipating the performance that consisted of Carl Grimes and Enid Foster on Piano, Andre on Violin and a Kickdrum set.

It started with just Carl and Enid performing what sounded like a well-orchestrated piano battle. It was highly entertaining for everyone. It was a delight to see two gifted young people in sync and incredibly creative. Then it all went silent. The stage went dark, and vocals were coming from two directions, and the kickdrums brought back the lights. Animal.

Carl: I'm an Animal  
Andre: You're an Animal  
Carl: You know, You know me  
Andre: I like to be intoxicated  
Carl You know, you know me  
Andre: And feel unappreciated  
Carl: You know, You know me  
Andre: I like to be adulterated

No one was privy to the musical arrangement, but it wasn't something that anyone thought would be a problem. We were all amused to hear Carl sing. No one was aware, and it wasn't a problem until the songs began to change tempo, and the lyrics began to be of concern. Twisted.

My mother, she told me, "don't get in trouble."  
My father, he told me he knew I would...

A minute and a half it was about throwing middle fingers in the air. We all gasped. Most of the adults 21 to thirty heard no problem it was the few that did and were revving ourselves up for a collective alarm. Especially with more students flipping and waving the bird in the air. I wasn't sure if anyone was going to act, but the tempo changed again to our relief.

The last song was worse than anything, KDV...Killing Darth Vader with my motherfucking Kickdrum. The students were excited, and I was out of the auditorium since I could not find Principal Benton anywhere in the audience. Carol, Glen the Math Teacher, and Tara the PE teacher were headed to the stage.

I want to say this as explicitly as possible. I didn't see any sex happening. I mean, what I saw was them standing close to each other. Very close as if something intimate was being shared. It could have been entirely harmless, is what I am trying to relay or make clear.

I remembered her leaving during the middle of Lizzy's performance of Whitney Houston's, I Want To Dance With Somebody. Ms. Benton's husband was following close behind. It didn't look good, but it didn't seem bad. It just looked like whatever was going on was important. They walked past me and out of the auditorium. A few minutes later only the husband, Mr. Benton returned.

"Is everything ok?" I asked.

"Yes. She's in her office. She will be back, Olivia." I was surprised. I couldn't hide it so I turned to walk out of the auditorium to see if I could spot her coming. You see...most people don't remember my name. I was introduced to Mr. Benton two years ago and only spoke to him then, telling him to call me Olivia. He remembered and it almost made me want to cry. I have always been what one would consider a wallflower. Overweight and mostly overlooked. Not with the Benton's. They knew my name and their son was the same way. He appreciated that I allowed him to eat cereal for breakfast and at lunch time. I was aware of his inability to cope without his cereal and I think that was why he may have remembered my name too.

Well, she hadn't come back, and her son was ready to perform. That's how I knew where to find her and I didn't expect to find Deputy Grimes with her in her office with the door partially closed.

I overheard a part of the conversation. I couldn't make much sense of it or know exactly what type of problem she was having with her husband.

"Even if I had a do over with him, I don't think I would change a thing."

"Then that is all that matters, Michonne."

"In the end, I know that. What scares me is that I don't think it is the same for him. It's in his eyes. It's in his tone. It's what stands between us. It divides us and that is why he stays in Atlanta. I'm still being punished."

"I wish I had answers for you." Rick offered.

"I'm not looking for answers, Rick. Just an ear to bend. Nothing more."

I watched him put his hand on top of hers. His fingers slipped between hers and they squeezed.

* * *

A/N: Music by Missio


	19. Sweet Ella's Chili Spoon

"Chili, spice of red Thursday, which is the day of reckoning. Day which invites us to pick up the sack of our existence and shake it inside out. Day of suicide, day of murder."  
 **― Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, The Mistress of Spices**

* * *

I couldn't stop crying and by the time Senior made it to bed I was nearing the end of worrying about things that were essentially outside of my control.

Senior was having coughing fit. I thought for a moment that he was having a cardiac moment. The sounds he was making stopped my sniffles.

"Are you okay, Senior?"

"I keep waiting for it to hit me right in the chest but this heart of mind keeps beating. Not missing one single beat."

"Why did you give me such a start just now?"

"I thought you would be asleep, Sweet Ella. Didn't Ms. Rosa give you an Ambien?"

"An hour ago. I've been waiting for it to take effect."

"I asked her to give me one too if I didn't have a stroke before leaving my office. How long does it usually take to kick in?"

"Forty minutes. I think we are under extreme amounts of stress. We may have to ask her to give us another one, Senior."

"Heavens no. We will have voided our Life insurance policies if we do. Things have to be natural even though the amount of stress those two have put us through should have sent us to an early grave by now."

"Have you heard anything back from Shane?"

"Yes. Says it is going to cost us a pretty penny to keep that Satan Spawn Carl out of Prison. They found some things that make Carl's side of the story questionable. I have already wired a sizable amount to an offshore account, and the request is for more, and I tell you, damn it. If that child didn't have Grimes authentic blood running through his veins, I would say to hell with him. We keep money on his books to make sure he is not in need while he is in prison."

"Senior Grimes! How dare you say such a thing! You are still angry over Carl trying to prove a point about Shrodinger's cat theory is the same for a dog."

"Didn't mean he was supposed to put my damn Caesar in a box in the Goddamn hot attic."

"Well, I have worries too, Senior. I mean knowing all the times I had our very own son, Richard Sinclaire Grimes, sip from my Chili spoon."

"Good God, must we?"

"I can't ever offer him my Chili spoon again, Senior."

"Good God! Do you think our son would be so deplorable to put his face in a dirty ass now, Sweet Ella?"

Just the mere mention had me covering my eyes with my Sleep Mask.

"If that is your worry then you can only imagine what he and Lori were up to when they were married. The idea isn't something I want to think about, and if I do, I suppose that if he were doing half those things with Lori, he wouldn't have been blindsided by the divorce."

"Blindsided?" I removed my mask to see Senior.

"Yes. Nothing like thinking your marriage is solid only to be told by Lori that it was not so."

"What are you talking about, Senior. Richard divorced, Lori."

"What are you saying, Sweet Ella."

"Well, Richard wouldn't tell me everything but what I did get from him was that he caught Lori stepping out on him one too many times."

There was a light tap at our bedroom door. It was Ms. Rosa.

"Open."

"Doing my visual check as instructed. Alive and Well. Ambien should kick in soon. Do you want me to lock you two inside? I can't have you both roaming about the house under the influence. It's only one of me."

"Yes, please. Lock us inside if you will."

"Yes, sir. I thought you two would appreciate advice from where I come from. It will help you live a long time."

"Advice at this hour to live when we are hoping to die?"

"Well, you two aren't going anywhere at least not out of this room. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow is a better day to die. Full moon."

"Good, God what advice do you have?"

"Thank you for asking, Senior. My advice that has been handed down for centuries goes like this, Live and Let Live. Now, Good Night."


	20. Beth Sneaks A Kiss

"Love is the bee that carries the pollen from one heart to another."  
 **― Slash Coleman, The Bohemian Love Diaries: A Memoir**

* * *

I had a big fight with Spencer. It was a fight that had escalated into a shouting match in front of Mabel's Diner located in the middle of town. Spencer had stormed off and left without a care if I had a way to get back home. It was Deputy Grimes dressed in civilian clothes that saved the day.

Carl's dad took me home. On the way, I told him everything that I was going through with Spencer and planning a wedding. I knew I was pregnant. I didn't tell the divorced father of one that I was pregnant or that it was the only reason I was willing to marry Spencer.

"Why don't you like, Spencer?"

"I have my reason."

"Care to share?"

"Not my place."

"Come on. Tell me."

I thought my prodding would open up the door for him to make the case that he was the better option because of X, Y, and Z. Instead he eyed me with a serious look that indicated what he had said was final. We were at the farm by then.

Deputy Grimes opened my door and helped me step out of his truck. He happens to be a real gentleman. There was something about the way he was looking into my eyes. I thought we were having a moment and I may have read him wrong because I thought he wanted to kiss. I kissed him. He didn't kiss me back. I was going to try again thinking he would soften to the idea but he didn't.

"Please, don't."

"Why not, Deputy Sheriff."

"I'm good friends with your Dad for one. My son is another reason. I don't like the age difference and..."

"And what else?"

"I'm in love with someone."

I was surprised by this. No one has ever spoken about him being in a relationship with anyone other than the time with Jessie. This was news. The next thing he said was more to himself. It seemed he was struggling with something and he had no one to talk to about it.

"I can't believe I just said that out loud. Shit." He pinched the bridge of his nose. He only glanced my way when I spoke.

"Does she know?"

"No."

"Well, why don't you tell her?"

"I can't. Right now, I can't. I value her friendship than to mess it up with those words, especially if she doesn't feel the same."

"Sounds like you need to have a conversation with her."

"Sounds like I need to get out of my head and deal with the facts. Truth is- it just ain't meant to be anything more. Just a friendship."

"That sucks."

"It does suck."

I really didn't know who he could have been referring too. Almost every woman in town wanted him.

The way Jessie described him at the hair salon where I get my trims, even I was curious. I mean, there were rumors that something was up with him and the Principal at Kings Gifted Academy. I tried to pay more attention to it but, I didn't see anything that indicated there was something more between them. My sister, Maggie, thought otherwise.

"I think the rumors are dumb." I sat next to my sister who was the school Librarian a few days later.. The library was empty, and it was after school. She was my ride home since I didn't have a Driver's license and my fiancée was late.

"Why do you concern yourself with Rick? Aren't you engaged to Spencer?"

"I'm only marrying him because everyone expects me to marry him."

"What was your purpose of getting pregnant by him or having his baby?"

I couldn't bring myself to tell my sister that the baby I was carrying wasn't Spencer's. Yes, I slept with Spencer. I came on to him, and he didn't resist, but he is not the father. He was the only one that I knew that would take responsibility if I told him he was the father. His mother Deanna wasn't happy about it based on my age. Spencer's mom had gone as far as to say to my face that it was due to her son's low ambition that he was with me in the first place.

"He said he's in love with someone."

"If he is in love with anyone it is the Principal."

"What?"

"Anyone that knows Grimes like I know him and Glen know him, he has his sights on the Principal."

"She's married."

"Didn't stop him with Jessie."


	21. Michonne Is Blinded By The Sun

"We live and breathe words. ... It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt-I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt. I felt I was dreaming and thinking and feeling _with_ you. I dreamed what you dreamed, wanted what you wanted-and then I realized that truly I just wanted you."  
 **― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince**

* * *

Sometimes the hammock is a good place to lounge or on a blanket positioned on the ground. I like to stare up at the stars at night. That particular night the full moon shone bright and the stars sparkled. It was a beautiful night that I was spending alone until I heard the sound of his door creak and his steady footfalls coming towards where I lay.

"How long do you plan to be out here?"

"How long were you planning on watching me from your window?"

"You know about that?"

I turned my head slightly to look at him staring down at me as I lay on the blanket.

"Yes."

"When were you going to say something?"

"I am now. I am now saying _something_." I had smiled.

" _Something._ "

"Yep."

"Not stop?"

"Nope."

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Is it that dark that you can't tell?"

"Well..."

From my vantage point, I had him blushing. To me he was like the sun. Sometimes it was wise to look away. But we developed this comfort with staring at each other as if words were never really needed.

"Well," he began again, "You want some company?"

I brushed my hand against the spot next to me. It was slightly awkward between us. We were never in this position with each other, this fact kept our attention on the sky above us.

"Why do you always smell so good?" I had whispered more to myself. His scent was an instant aphrodisiac.

"What?"

"I asked, do you know what you are looking at when looking up there?"

I had lied. I knew he was looking at the side of my face before placing his attention back to the late evening sky.

"Yeah. I know what I am looking at when I am looking up there. Do you see it? Do you see that far off galaxy between those two stars on the left of that far off planet? That is where my Pod is located."

"Pod?"

"We travel in pods. Egg shape. We-"

"We?"

"Can I tell you what I see or not?"

"What you see is definitely something no one else can see, Rick."

'Close your eyes then if you lack the imagination to see what is in front of you."

"What is in front of me isn't-."

"I'm on this planet X alone waiting for your POD to enter Planet X atmosphere."

"What is our job on Planet X?"

"Our task is to reproduce-eventually. There are a few people there. They have their own Pods and want to mingle. I choose to wait. Only one person I want. I was waiting for you to make the move first but I see it's not going to happen, so I took a leap of faith that what I'm seeing and feeling wasn't, isn't all in my head. Not my imagination. I'm waiting for you."

"I have a family here. Why would I go way out there? Everything I know is here. That place, Planet X is kind of scary. Your Pod, my pod..." I wanted to say more but I was at a loss for words on the direction he was going.

"Reason why I went first. I'm serious. I only know if you are on your way to that planet if you tell me. If you were to tell me..."

"What happened to your date tonight?"

"The same thing that happened to the last one I allowed you to set me up on. Nothing."

"What happened. You both seemed to hit it off at the book signing."

"We did."

"And?"

"I'm not interested. Can I go back to my space story?"

"No. Not when there isn't anyone else that you could imagine yourself with on Planet X. Not when you are waiting for me."

"Have I been imagining things?"

"Behave yourself, Rick."

"You are the one that said I smell good to you."

"You said you didn't know what I said."

"I said no such thing. My _what_ was for you to repeat it."

I was quiet. I was overcome with nervous energy. It was in the air, sparking through the night like the fireflies above us or the occasional house light turning on or off in the homes around us at random. There was a craving growing, building into a pang of hunger that only his touch, his lips, his body could satisfy.

"You've been flirting with me for a while now."

"Harmless." I moved my hand closer to my side once I felt the touch of his fingertips on the back of my hand as he sought me out to connect.

"I'm not going to make any unnecessary moves if you don't want me to, Michonne. I'm not going to reach out to you if you don't want me in that way."

"What way is that, Rick?"

"Do you want me to continue with my Pod story?"

"I can't reproduce with you."

"Well, what can you do?"

"I can do a lot of things."

"What are you willing to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing. You are curious about something?"

"I think you need to scare me out of this thing."

"Thing?"

"This infatuation."

"Infatuation?"

"Okay, curiosity bordering on infatuation."

"Infatuation but you realize you are more comfortable with calling it curiosity."

"Similar to touching something hot."

"You are curious about getting burned?"

"Yeah." My response was barely audible."

"I'm not sure what you want from me, Michonne." His tone indicated he was desperate to understand me and how badly he wanted to please me.

"Help me realize I am making a big mistake."

"If it is not a Mistake?"

"It will be a mistake. I will realize it immediately."

"What is it you want to do?"

"I want to get on top of you."

"What?"

"Lie on top of you. No kissing. I want to know what it feels like. Nothing more."

I craved what Jessie described as heaven. I wanted to partake for just a moment to get it out of my system. My heart raced that he was agreeable.

"Okay."

There was something about him pulling me over to him when he sensed my instant hesitation to what I wanted to do.

Staring down at him, lying between his legs where his arousal began to grow was more than I had bargained for, and it made me almost certifiable. We didn't share words or any additional thoughts. We communicated with our bodies and our hands. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and inhaled the sun, the moon, and stars while his hands travelled up and down the length of my back. I was still propped on my elbows and fingers played in his curls and massaged his scalp.

It was the pain in my elbows that prompted me to roll him on top of me and immediately we both became deliciously delirious once aligned in that way. Our desire became the high tide to drown us both.


	22. Rick's Night Warning

"Nothing says awkward like coming in your pants while dry humping."  
― **Jay McLean, More Than This**

* * *

The woman I wanted was underneath me. I had broken every promise I had made to myself to never get involved with a married woman. This woman was not only married, but she was also my neighbor, my son's Principal and the mother of my son's best friend. This had all the red flags.

I remember the first time meeting her. The way she walked out of her office in my direction to shake my hand, I knew then, I wanted her.

We were both overcome with an incredible need for the other, and without words, I listened intently to her body to tell me how much grinding she was in need of to get her off.

If we were only naked...

We weren't. Instead, we were fully clothed, dry humping each other into oblivion. We had officially crossed the line, and with the sound she had made in my ear, she was having her very own happy ending. That sound alone was enough to cause me to teeter over the edge quickly to only climb recklessly back to the same spot of maximum pleasuring. I spilled my release in my jeans again. All of this was done without a single kiss shared between us.

I'm not sure what would have happened if I hadn't heard Carl calling out for me. He had started at the front of the house. Most likely noticing my truck in the driveway. Not sure what made him check the backyard but by the time he found me I was sitting up on the blanket next to Michonne, Indian style.

It was a clear enough night for anyone with two eyes to have seen what we were doing if they knew to look. Semen was all warm against my pelvis and seeping through the fibers of my underwear. I knew then; I had officially lost my mind.

"What are you doing out here with the Principal?" Carl asked me as if Michonne wasn't there next to me.

"When I am home, I am not the Principal." Michonne informed my son who avoided all eye contact with her.

Carl considered what she was saying for a second before responding, "Sound like the Principal."

"What Andre's Mom is saying, Carl, is that you don't have to keep referring to her by her job title. When she is in school, she is the Principal when she is home she is Mrs. Benton."

"Or, Michonne." The woman I was officially in love with offered my son a first name basis was surprising to me. She was trying to connect with him, but as usual, Carl wasn't having any of it by ignoring the offer.

"What are you two doing out here?"

"Who's the parent?" Michonne asked.

"My Dad is, and you are the Principal."

"We are or were looking at the stars." I motioned between Michonne and me.

"Better laying down." Carl suggested.

"You want to lie down with us? Your Dad has this great story about PODs." Michonne offered with a mischievous grin.

"My Dad sucks at storytelling. I'll pass. Where's Andre?"

"With his Dad in Atlanta."

"Did you come out here for Andre or me?"

My question was completely ignored. He was now focused on Michonne and it was startling to see the change in how he was slowly interacting with her. It was a tiny detail that didn't go unnoticed by me or her.

"I thought we were going to buy night vision cameras but Andre says you don't give him enough allowance to do much. You may want to think about increasing it if you don't want to be reported."

"Reported for what?"

"There are child labor laws."

"Again report me for what exactly?"

"All those chores are worth more than 20 bucks a week."

"He only unloads dishes."

"I'm just saying."

"How much are you paying your kid to do nothing?"

"My Dad doesn't give me an allowance. My Gramps..."

"Spoils you." I helped him end the conversation. I knew the only reason my Dad, Senior Grimes, gave money to Carl was because of snatching him up in such a way that even Carl was unsure about what was transpiring.

"Probably cheaper to just have Noah to make them from spare camera parts."

"Cameras for what?"

"To catch ghost activity. Halloween is coming."

A warning we didn't think to heed.


	23. Mike's Home

"There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or simply close it."  
 **― Shannon L. Alder**

* * *

There was a time where I could count on Michonne. I could count on her to put Andre first, and I came second. It was always that way with her, and she didn't see the problem with it, and I didn't see the problem with it at first, until he tried to kill himself.

I had to shoulder the blame for quite a few things. One of them was for my insistence that Andre try and integrate into a regular school with typical children. Maybe enough of them around would give him an incentive to work and be like everyone else-Normal. It had gotten too much for Andre. He was overly stimulated most of the time, and Michonne or I had to drop whatever we were doing to go to the school. It was during these times that the other kids at the Atlanta school caught on, I guess. The bullying started and- I was the one who found my son. He had the rope around his neck, but he was on the floor of his bedroom convulsing.

"Michonne-."

"I'm fucking tired, Mike. I'm tired of having to worry. Why can't you seem to understand that?"

"We were supposed to do this shit together, Michonne. You and I. We are almost there. We got the building. We have Sasha, Tyrese, and the formidable Rosita on board. We have the paralegals. We've always dreamt about having our office. Our team."

"I have one son. He is my life. The more you talk, the more it is clear that you don't fucking understand that."

"So the answer is for you to become a GOD DAMN PRINCIPAL? Without discussion? Without consulting me? The extent you would go to coddle and babysit."

Her silence was enough to stop the world and everyone in it.

She gave me the silent treatment. We put our dreams on hold again and moved to some shitty place called Kings County. I followed hoping things would change between us, or ease up at least.

Michonne felt that if I read more about Autism, went to more of the doctor appointments, classes, seminars, conferences, parent meetups, I would have a better understanding. I didn't have time, and if we had stayed on course, she wouldn't have had any time with all the legal briefs that we had to scour.

What I did was continue to commute. I stayed reluctantly with the firm I was with initially until the day that Andre would turn eighteen. Hopefully, then he would have some direction, life skills, and college dorm-bound. This would mean I would potentially have my wife and partner back.

"Andre, where's your mother?"

"With Mr. Grimes."

I caught the grin on his friend's face but didn't understand it at the time. He had a friend over named Noah who paused playing his Cello when Andre had stopped to answer my question.

"Mr. Grimes? Why?"

"He's fascinated with Autism."

"What do you mean?"

"Mom gives him books. He likes to read stupid stuff too."

"Stupid stuff? Don't let your Mom hear you say that." I mused.

"I know."

Andre didn't catch the humor. He went immediately back to playing his music.

During these moments Andre would seem like any other Angsty teen with a definite opinion from an uncomplicated outlook on adult behavior.

Andre was on the piano, Steinway & Sons 1917 model that cost over 90 thousand dollars. It was a significant piece in the home and anyone that knew pianos or music would take note of its beauty and it's broadcast that there was a seriously gifted piano player in the house.

It was placed in the center of our large formal living room that Michonne had walls knocked down to create. Musical sounds from keys or chords would engulf the home and seep outside through the cracks of the window and doors unable to contain the complicated pieces that ranged from Chopin to the level of Grande Etudes de Paganini. Andre and Noah were doing something Complicated with what was a well-known piece, and it kept me intrigued to know where they were going with the music.

I sat trying to go over briefs and occasionally checking my watch. It was after 11pm, and my wife still wasn't home.

I knew my wife was cheating on me before the video. The evidence, the visual didn't compare to her lifeless body laying next to mine.

* * *

A/N:

This story is going to go down the Foxhole so fast.


	24. Noah's Strings Versus Keys

"Emotions, in my experience, aren't covered by single words. I don't believe in "sadness," "joy," or "regret." Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feeling. I'd like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic train-car constructions like, say, "the happiness that attends disaster." Or: "the disappointment of sleeping with one's fantasy." I'd like to show how "intimations of mortality brought on by aging family members" connects with "the hatred of mirrors that begins in middle age." I'd like to have a word for "the sadness inspired by failing restaurants" as well as for "the excitement of getting a room with a minibar." I've never had the right words to describe my life, and now that I've entered my story, I need them more than ever. "  
 **― Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex**

* * *

I saw the video.

The video was bad news on many levels. Why? One-because it was _my_ cameras I had loaned to Carl and Andre for their usual dumbshit. They wanted to prove Orbs. Didn't matter the explanation that I gave them about how light retracts _or_ possible Water droplets or dust particles, they believed in the supernatural. Prove it.

I'm best friends with Andre and Good friends with Carl. There something that is just not right with Carl, and I don't mean the autism part. I'm autistic, but there is a difference between autistic and psychotic. Whenever he talks crazy, I usually peace out.

I play most string instruments very well. My preference is the Cello. I can play the piano, and I am just as good as Andre, but that night he proved me wrong when I no longer could keep up with him on Cello as he improvised. I waited until my mind could send signals to my fingers and hand that this is the moment to join in once I recognized Andre was going in and out of Liszt's Transcendental Etude. Like what the fuck, man?

Andre smiles and finally goes into Moonlight Sonata, which I can join in without fail. I mean this guy can play Chopin and Bach-like it is elementary, and Bach has to be done 100 percent error free with no foot pedal to hide any mistakes. Andre is amazing. Andre has a 1917 Steinway in his house which makes him total Boss.

When it comes to the piano, he makes Carl and Enid seem, just alright. Andre is the only one I know that is on a whole different plane of musical existence until he mentions kick drums that his Mom, Principal Benton makes him keep in the Garage.

What else am I good at? I'm good at hacking. Okay! I'm a professional hacker. I get paid, and my parents don't know.

I was there. I didn't know Mr. Benton, Andre's Dad had a gun until, Principal Benton, Andre's Mom, tried to stop him from going over to Carl's house to shoot Mr. Grimes. He didn't kill Mr. Grimes though. He shot his wife.


End file.
